


(sort of) a tale as old as time.

by houndsace



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: AU, Beauty and the Beast Elements, F/M, M/M, Multi, Other, big big big AU, but also this started as a joke fic OKFGSDF, thats my idiot, the wols belong to my friends outside of rash'a
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-13
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:14:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25251451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/houndsace/pseuds/houndsace
Summary: There are tales of a beast that lives in the sea, deep within the Tempest, known as Amaurot.  Such stories tell of the beast living within confines of his own making, elegant and intricate in his work. They speak of ghosts that wander about the areas outside of his home, lost and listless as if they had tasks at one point, but no longer can find their way to them; other beasts, without form or reason, make their home here too, striking down visitors that try to find their way in.--so like this started as a joke bc my friend drew slug!emet and you know what it just kind of evolved and i think that's valid of ussorry for any OOCness because i like genuinely dont know how to write emet and this is an AU anyway SO
Relationships: G'raha Tia | Crystal Exarch/Warrior of Light, Solus zos Galvus | Emet-Selch/Warrior of Light, implied exarch/wol anyway
Comments: 2
Kudos: 3





	(sort of) a tale as old as time.

**Author's Note:**

> enkh belongs to paz, the hyur mentioned later on is eir's, and ara belongs to garrett!! all my lovely friends i apologize for stealing your wols owo

There are tales of a beast that lives in the sea, deep within the Tempest, known as Amaurot. Such stories tell of the beast living within confines of his own making, elegant and intricate in his work. They speak of ghosts that wander about the areas outside of his home, lost and listless as if they had tasks at one point, but no longer can find their way to them; other beasts, without form or reason, make their home here too, striking down visitors that try to find their way in. 

So very little known of the Tempest and its creatures, of the king that lurks within, save the ramblings of an old woman, Matoya, who speaks of great treasure to those who manage to get to the beast’s lair, of those who dare to test the Tempest and its denizens. Few have tried - fewer have come back, and those that have are traumatized from the experience, not wanting to speak of what they saw for fear of it coming back to them. Despite this, though, these tales always attract travelers, far and wide. They stand, steeling themselves and holding their breath as they find their way to the nearest city, the Ondo Cups. These creatures know little of the Tempest, only that they must try to dissuade those that try and come to it, only that they shouldn’t let others go past, but there are always those that refuse to wait. The Ondo can’t do much to stop them, no matter how they try. 

Such is the tale of one visitor to Amaurot; a constant visitor to the Cups as if they continually have to work themselves up to it, have to try and encourage themselves further in order to make the first steps. 

The revving of an engine is what shakes them of their thoughts, and they’re met with harsher eyes than normal. Rash’a was not one for words, no, as he made his home near the Tempest long ago, but the bike had room for another seat, and thus, offered it to them. Enkh blinks a bit - they knew little of this man, watched his face (or what they could see of it) with a small bit of trepidation (and an equal part of curiosity), before they sling their leg over the bike and let him take them.

“You’ve been here awhile. A few times now that I think of it, too.” There’s nothing friendly about it, the Miqo’te’s dark eyes regarding the Au Ra with scrutiny, before huffing, “I will take you as far as the Heights. You will need to take yourself the rest of the way.” He said, gruff before taking off. The rev of the engine seemed enough to keep some of the tenants of the Tempest at bay, and for that, Enkh is thankful. The ride there is almost calm, and it puts a blanket on their nerves.

They’d heard the stories, of course - it was hard to be in Norvrandt and not hear them, even if one wasn’t a permanent resident. Still, the trepidation returns as they reach the Heights, and there’s a hard swallow as they watch the man’s motorbike ride off elsewhere. The echoing of beasts reaches up here, they realize, and Enkh moves to where the lift is. Odd, they think, for a place like this to have such a thing, but the minute they enter Amaurot, they understand.

The buildings are high - touching the top of what they can assume is Bismarck’s Blessing, the dome that keeps the water from touching all of the Tempest. They can see it, from the windows of the lift; Amaurot wasn’t just a single home - it was a whole city. They can see the “ghosts”, wandering listlessly, and how huge they are even from here. Everything dwarfs them - and it leaves a strange feeling in their chest.

They ignore it, startled out of their thoughts as the lift reaches its destination. Something about all of it is alarmingly familiar, but they push the thoughts out of their head as they continue on. It feels like memories untouched, something not theirs that they shouldn’t touch, and so they don’t. They continue, walking first through the great city that they’ve discovered. Enkh understands now why the stories are so grand, the way they tell of a glittering city beneath the sea - because it is; it’s beautiful, even with the monochrome that paints it. 

Of course, they aren’t alone forever - they’re spotted rather easy, considering they haven’t done much to hide themselves and they doubt Au Ra are very common here (from what they can tell, only the giant ghosts) and before they know it, one approaches them.

“Are you lost, child? You should not be here, you know.” It sounds like an echo, far away yet all too close at the same time and Enkh finds themself both enthralled and terrified - and it must show, too, because the being laughs, “This is not the place for children, out in the open. Come with me.” 

A tilt of the head, frozen in place otherwise, and the Amaurotine stops for a moment, examines them head to toe before (and Enkh swears they could see it), he blinks. “You are much more cautious than our other visitors… My name is Hythlodaeus. We have been waiting for you.”

“.. For me?” 

“Ah, they speak! Yes, for you. A few thousand years, to be exact.” 

“What?” The word is spoken dumbly, their turn to blink in surprise, “You must be thinking of someone else.” 

“No, no, I am sure it’s you. Your soul speaks all, my child, I can tell. Your body may not be the same, but the soul will always find its way back.” Hythlodaeus continues to speak as if it is fact, and Enkh nearly believes him for a moment, “Come, please. Visitors like you should not be treated the way others are, and we must make it known.” 

Before they can speak again, they’re ushered forward - to the Capitol. They’d heard stories of this place, too, large and imposing as it is but the inside is gorgeous. High, high ceilings, a large chandelier, the golden tile floors, absolutely stunning and they find themselves stunned.  
“Much different than the tales you hear?” 

“How do you know about them?” Enkh blinks again, looking up at Hythlodaeus, brows knitted.

“It was an attempt to scare others out - started by our own Lahabrea, no less, though I’m sure you’ll meet him soon. He likes to make himself known whenever he can, when he’s not sitting in his study.” There’s a laugh there, almost melodic and Enkh can’t help but smile with them.

Ushered into a room not too far off, they’re put into something different than their travelling clothes, the thick, dark silk bunching off from their hips, around their waist before cascading down, the front of the dress thinner, cutting off at the thigh, the front trailing with gold filigree along the length of the bodice. It’s extravagant, almost insanely so, and Enkh wonders if they can get the pattern to alter it to their taste more. Still, they don’t complain, slipping their high boots back on before stepping out to meet Hythlodaeus again.

“I still don’t think you have the right person.” 

“And I know that we don’t. Trust me, Enkh.”

“We’ve only just met.”

“But we have known each other for eons. Look deep.” A gentle hand comes to place against their forehead, and for a moment, they feel stunned.

Images of them and Hythlodaeus, ages and ages ago, and there’s something odd about it. They don’t feel like Hythlodaeus is planting memories - it feels as though they’d been Enkh’s all this time, locked away somewhere deep. There’s a call deep in their chest and they hear a new laughter, something different than Hythlodaeus’s melody, deeper, more gruff, and Enkh feels themself intake a sharp breath.

“Who…” 

“You mustn’t get scared when you first see him, alright? He is different from what he used to be. His loneliness has warped him, and he no longer looks the same. You mustn’t be afraid. Alright?”

“... Alright.” Trepidation once more leaks into their tone, and Enkh prepares themself again, moving with Hythlodaeus to another wing of the Capitol. Every bit of it is more beautiful than the last - until they reach the darker parts of the corridor. Long, large claw marks against the walls, torn portraits of what they can only assume are of others and of him, and their heart aches just barely. They can feel it, locked deep again and they wonder just where this “him” is, who he is, and what they’ll see when they finally do see him.

“...Emet-selch? We’ve found them…” He calls out, and Enkh nearly startles at the sudden noise after the quiet of their walk. Still, though, they steel themselves, breathe deeply.

“You must be joking.” The voice is familiar, sounds as if they’ve heard it a thousand and one times, and the laugh that comes after is humorless, “You can’t have found them. Are you going to tell me that truly, after thousands and thousands of years, they’ve just waltzed into the Capitol?”

“Well, no, not really. Rash’a brought them to the Heights and they continued their own way.” Hythlodaeus explains, nodding a bit, “That cat is more secretive than you sometimes.”

“It happens when you decide to live at the bottom of an ocean.” Cynical, but intrigued nonetheless and then Enkh hears them.

Footsteps - heavier than theirs, definitely, but more than one set. The first thing they see is a huge paw, that reminds them of the tigers in Yanxia, then, his head, held proud and looking like that of Leviathan, the rest of his body seeming to mimic his front legs. Eyes trail from where they should be on his face, all the way down his body, ending at his flank, his back legs more like bird’s, talons scratching against the tile.

There’s a tense few moments they regard each other, Emet’s eyes watching Enkh for a moment before moving a bit closer, head moving down and each eye blinking in unison on his body, though Enkh isn’t sure he can actually see out of them. Still, they remember Hythlodaeus’s words - to not be afraid, that the loneliness has twisted him. They know well it isn’t their fault, and hum softly.

“You’re not as handsome as the stories tell.” They grumble. 

“No? I’m so sorry to disappoint you, my dear.” Emet snorts (at least, they think it’s a snort), before huffing, “This is not a form I took on willingly - in fact, it was the curse of someone at the Crystarium. They came one day, seeking shelter, and I turned them away in a fit of selfishness. I did not deem them fit to stay here, and thus, told them to leave. Turns out, you shouldn’t piss off people who have powerful magic under their belt.” 

“So, it was your own fault in the end.” Enkh’s nose scrunches and Hythlodaeus snickers behind them.

“Yes, yes, it was, I’ll admit that - but the curse got far worse over time, and now, we are here. If you think you can break it, then do not let me stop you. The library is in the other wing.” And with that, his footsteps receded again, and Enkh hums.

They aren’t sure how much time passes with them in the library - Hythlodaeus joins them sometimes, watching them pour over books on transformation but much of it goes over their head. They try seeking the help of Lahabrea, but all he does is bitch at them for not being smart enough to know it in the first place, and they refuse to deal with the… odd advances of Elidibus, and moves quietly through the library with a hum. 

It’d been at least a week - they were sure by now someone was likely looking for them, but they couldn’t give up. Through the week, they’d remembered bits and pieces - all mundane, all unnecessary, nothing helpful. It felt like their own memories were taunting them, and the whole of it is frustrating. 

Their linkpearl lights again, and they huff as they place it in their ear.

“Enkh, holy shit, where are you?”

“Ara? Hm. I didn’t think I’d get reception down here.” 

“Down where?” 

“The Tempest.” Said so simply, so easily, and there’s a loud “thump” on the other end, “Don’t fall out of bed, now, your company may not like it.”

“Oh, he doesn’t care. Why are you in the Tempest? They don’t tell us stories about it to make us go there, it’s to keep us out.” 

“Because I want to help him. Look, if you want to come see me, go to the Cups and ask after Rash’a. I have to go back to searching.” 

“What’s with the rush?” 

“I feel like I’m running out of time. I haven’t been here long, but every day that passes, I’ve noticed more and more of the Amaurotines start to disappear. I think… I think if I save him, I can save the city, too.”

“Who is “he”?”

“... Emet-selch.” 

“... You’re stupid.” 

“Maybe so, but no one deserves to live like this, and they think that I can save him. I’m at least going to try. Besides, they’ve been so hospitable. Just trust me, please?”

“... Fine. But at least come up to see us at some point.” 

“Thank you, and I will.” 

The linkpearl goes dead, and Enkh cards their fingers through their red hair, nearly startles again as they see Rash’a near the door to the library, “It’s not polite to scare someone. Why do you move so quietly anyway?” 

“Dunno. Maybe it’s a Miqo’te thing. But this isn’t about me - you really think you can save this place?” There’s a dark yellow eye that regards them, and Enkh studies him for a moment. They’d never gotten a good look at Rash’a but the miqo’te was rather imposing, they realize, huffing a bit before nodding. 

“I think so.”

“Do you believe it, though? Because really, you’ve got one shot at this. They’ve been waiting a long time for someone like you. I don’t know what Hythlodaeus means when he says you “have their soul”, but he believes in you. Don’t let him down.” The words are almost punishing, and there’s a wry smirk on the cat’s face, “No pressure, though.” He nearly doesn’t dodge the book thrown at him. 

The week passes almost the same as the last, and the next passes much the same save a trip back home or two. Though they suppose their dedication has earned them something, as their companion is Emet-selch himself some days. The large creature makes his nest in the corner of the library, watching them flip through books. 

The quiet is comforting, easy, and something about it makes it much easier to work. Enkh doesn’t know why - they’d thought having him there would make their goal stare them in the face, looming worse than Rash’a’s words… But at this point, they’d gone through every book they could. 

“Tell me more of this place, Amaurot. Of what it used to be.” 

“Imagine, a place that was perfect. Of beings, perfect. There was never dull moments, never a day where one would go with wanting something.”

“You describe a utopia.”

“I describe what our world used to be. Instead of this fragmented thing, our Star used to be whole, just as beings did. But there are always those that take these things for granted, and with the separation of the star came devastating consequences. That included losing yo--them.”

“Tell me more of them.”

“... They were my best friend. They used to walk the streets of Amaurot with me, and we’d talk about everything and nothing. Quite like how we do now, sitting in this library, filling our days with idle drivel.” It’s said almost thoughtfully, his gaze moving to look up at the ceiling, “You may not have “fixed” this city, but you have abated the loneliness that rests in my heart.” 

“Well, that should count for something, I would think.” They hum back, gently fingers coming to run across the scales of his long nose, hum again, a tune almost forming. It seems to put the beast to sleep, ease his body as he lays his large head in their lap, continuing whatever faraway lullaby is in their lips. 

They don’t realize it, but they doze off too, hands buried in thick fur against the shoulder of the beast they’d come to care for.

* * *

* * *

Somewhere else, another being smiles upon the two. His selfishness may not be fully defeated, no, but the Exarch can tell he has come to care for another. With that, he considers this something of a success. He doesn’t consider himself a hateful man, nor one that holds too long a grudge, and so, a wave of his staff, and the utterance of some words, he watches as the beast turns man again. 

He’ll tell himself later that it's pity - that something in him knows loneliness as well, even as a hand comes to wrap around his own, a small smile matching his as he meets the eyes of his own beloved, fingers coming to run through honey brown hair and gently bump his forehead against the hyur’s. 

Perhaps even beasts can come to love another, he surmises.

* * *

* * *

“...Emet?” Their voice is confused, and embarrassed, Emet realizes, blinking as he wakes again. He feels stiff - as if he’s just rested for eons rather than a few minutes, and he feels different as well, “is… this you?” 

More confusion, he realizes, and he squints at them as he’s handed a robe - a robe? He blinks a bit, watches for a moment before moving quickly through the halls, heading for his old bedroom. Instead of a beast, stood himself. Messy hair, high cheekbones, and sharp, gold eyes. 

“.. You’ve done it, Enkh. You’ve saved us. You’ve saved me.” There’s a hum from him as his forehead comes to meet the auri’s, hums softly with the lightest of kisses against their cheeks, feeling the heat on their skin as they blush, “Thank you.” And then, finished with his teasing, kisses them gently on their mouth before picking them up, “Now, we have much time to make up for.”


End file.
